Prosetry in the Park

Janice and I live in a 1950 cottage on the shore of a lake in the Whiteshell Provincial Park in Manitoba.

We try to live simply out here in the boreal–WiFi and Polish beer notwithstanding–but even the residents of Walden Pond gave in to the occasional venture back to the city for supplies and human contact. Us too.

On July 20 we will try to bring the city to the Park. We hope to be swamped by forest-thirsty urbanites, neighbours, and friendly randos here at our Walden. We will welcome these visitors to be our guests and, if they can, to bring a story, a poem, a song, a painting and share it with the gathering.

A night under the stars. Informal artistic expression and relective appreciation. Come by boat, windsurfer, canoe. Swim, hike in, ride a bike or fill a vehicle–float plane, micro bus, Red River cart, or a 1947 Lincoln Zephyr. . . whatevs–with your most convivial merry prankster friends.

[…] “twas in another lifetime,

one of toil and blood.

When blackness was a virtue, the road was full of mud.

I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.

‘Come in,’ she said, ‘I’ll give you shelter from the storm.'”

~~~

Let us, like Bob Dylan’s friend in his mystic lyric above, offer you an evening of shelter from the storm.

AND, if you can’t make it in person, we’d welcome your proxy–a snippet or an excerpt or a few lines of verse. We’ll present your work with reverence and hope. Then we’ll toast you and hope once more—that you join us next year.

Contact me here or on Facebook, twitter, email, Goodreads, phone, or drop in for details. mtoews55@gmail.com to learn about the point in time and space where reality meets infinity, borne on blintering starlight at the 50th latitude.

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